The water parted, even as it reflected the terrible events on the shore—two men, closer than brothers, fighting to kill one another. The worst had happened. They’d lost control. The Corpse King would pick off my guardians and then come for me.
I swam and swam, the mist over me, a never-ending veil. I would swim until I sank, and die like my loves. The Corpse King would not take me.
I almost cried out when my feet struck ground. I crawled onto the shore of the small island surrounded by mist—the island from my dream.
The fog didn’t follow me as I stumbled onto the lichen-covered rocks. I shook with cold. I had to get warm. A hundred paces took me to the center of the island, empty but for a few trees and low bushes. I heard no birds.
I pushed through the brush and came to the circle of
